Samantha's Story Part 6

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Samantha had a routine now. She would get up in the morning, put on light makeup, do her general grooming and get dressed in her he-self's clothes for school. Sometimes she would substitute some of the girl's jeans for the boy's stuff figuring that no one would notice.
 

Samantha's Story Part 6
By Maid Joy

 
 
Samantha had a routine now. She would get up in the morning, put on light makeup, do her general grooming and get dressed in her he-self's clothes for school. Sometimes she would substitute some of the girl's jeans for the boy's stuff figuring that no one would notice.

After class she would run errands, sometimes to the grocery store, sometimes to see if there were any insane deals at the Salvation Army Store or at Goodwill. She would occasionally come back with a dress, a skirt or a blouse. It depended really what she had the money for. She wouldn't spend over $2.00 for the outfit, simply because she couldn't spare the money from her account.

She did odd jobs for various popular hangouts around town. She knew the places that students hung out at, where the "cool" places were, and she would sweep the parking lot for dinner, or pick up the property and get all the disposable cups and wrappers for a couple dollars in cash. It helped her make ends meet and gave her a bit of variety to her diet.

The managers all knew her on sight and a few made it a regular thing, $20.00 for a good pickup of the area, or a night of dishwashing for $30.00. They would let some of the chores go and have her do them for about an hour or so and she was able to get back to her studies.

Every day her route took her past a certain dress shop. It was one of the older downtown stores that catered to ladies for proms, weddings and other formal affairs and every day she would stop and look at the dresses in the window.

There were three that she fell in love with. They were all formals; one was a halter-neck gold sheath that was open to the navel, just held closed by a couple bands of cloth just over the abdomen. The way it was displayed showed that it was for a full-busted woman, one with a nearly Barbie-like wasp waist. It was not a huge stretch of the imagination to see Mae West descending a staircase in this outfit. It also went to the floor and needed heels to keep it from dragging and was slit on the left leg to the top of the thigh.

Next to it was a blue satin one. It had a mandarin collar and fake frogs on the right hand side to look like a sleeveless cheongsam. The blue of the dress was a deep rich blue; about four shades lighter than Navy, and when the sun hit it just right, the dress shimmered. It had elbow length gloves to go with it and they were displayed with the dress.

Last was an emerald green satin sheath, high-collared neck, but cut down to just below the very small of the back. The sides were open so it was possible that it wouldn't cover the breasts correctly, but apparently there was something that would make sure that the lady wearing it wasn't embarrassed. It was also slit up to the thigh, and there were three gloriously wrought frog closures to make it a bit more modest. The front went all the way up to a collar that encircled the neck, snapping in back.

Samantha thought they were three of the most beautiful dresses she had ever seen. She didn't bother going into the store to look at the prices even if they were $30, they were out of her reach. Besides she had no place to store them nor did she have anyplace to wear them.

But every day as her path took her past that store, she would stop and look at the dresses and dream about dancing at a formal with someone.

About halfway through the summer semester, she was very pleased to find that her grades had earned her a "bonus" check from her parents. It was $100 that she hadn't counted on, and that she hadn't earmarked for anything. She immediately thought of using it to buy those dresses in the window, but was still stymied as to where she would wear them.

You only live once, I can get them and if I need them, then I have them to use. No sooner thought than done. She deposited the check and resolved to replace the money as soon as she could in her bank account with some of her extra chores.

It was nearly impossible to get a paying job in town since most of the students living around campus had all jobs locked up and were working for all they were worth. It was a bit easier in the Summer time, but the High School kids from the community would flood the job market at that point and it made competition fierce. It was definitely an employer's market year round. There were too many kids, and not enough work.

She went to the dress store and was stunned to see that the dresses were no longer in the window. In their places there was some sort of creation of frills and lace, that while beautiful in its own right, just wasn't the dresses she wanted.

She opened the door to the shop and went in.

It took a few minutes to find someone, but she finally found a nice oriental looking girl. "Excuse me, but what happened to the dresses that were in the window?"

"Oh, we changed those out they were there for nearly six months and no one bought them so the manager decided to change it for something else."

Samantha nodded her head. "Do you still have them?"

The lady pointed her to the discount rack. "They had been up so long that they’re over there. The owner was worried that there might be sun damage. If we still have them, that’s where you’ll find them."

Samantha thanked the saleslady and went to the discount rack.

It took her some time, but she did find the dresses. All three of them had been hung in the "deeply discounted" section, and Sam was pleased to see that they had been marked down as well.

She pulled out the gold dress, the blue dress and the green dress and hung them where she could get at them. She inspected the dresses themselves for damage, looked for the sun fading that might have happened, and finally dug down into the dresses themselves to find the sizes. Thankfully they were in a size that would fit her. She snatched the dresses up and went to the changing room to try them on.

Fate must have been helping her since the blue and green dresses fit like they were made for her. The gold dress would require padding, lots of padding but oh it was too perfect to discard.

Long and sleek, hugging the curves of her body, displaying her legs like they were tailored to her. All the dresses were slightly stretchy so that she could move easily she looked wonderful in them, and she knew it.

After getting out of the formal wear, she redressed, and began shopping for shoes and purses to go with the outfits. It didn't take long to find the required accessories and add them to the pile. She grabbed all of her purchases and made her way to the counter.

"That will be $130.80." Samantha's lips compressed a bit knowing she didn't have that much money. "May I speak to the Manager, please?"

The girl smiled. "I'm the manager currently, what can I do for you?"

"I got a bonus check, and I don't have all the money for the total bill. Can I offer you $100 for all of it? That's the total sum of my check. If you won't take that, I'll have to put some things back." She looked pathetic and tried to portray a starving student.

The lady looked her over a bit. "I've seen you looking at those dresses every day. Give me the $100, I'll take it for all of this."

Samantha felt like squealing and hugging her, instead she helped wrap the dresses and accessories so they wouldn't be damaged. She thanked the lady and left before she could change her mind about the price.

Samantha carefully hung her prizes in her closet when she got home. She had stopped by a dry cleaner and gotten the protective bags for them and had all three dresses covered in plastic before she put them away. She had no idea what to use these dresses for, but she was sure that at one time or another, a party would let her pull them out and show off, to be a Princess for the night.

Life continued on normally. Few of her classmates said anything about her changing appearance. A couple commented that she looked nice and that she didn't look so good in the grunge she had been wearing. It seemed that her class had assumed her to be a girl all along.

She attended church regularly, and was growing very close to the Porters, spending time with them, helping around their home and the church. She had gone out with Tina and her friends occasionally, and despite having some extra equipment, she never thought about herself as her he-self, Sam.

She started looking around for female hormones she could purchase on a budget, and finally determined that without some medical advice and tests to determine what, how much, and to monitor for side effects she would be making a huge mistake.

Mom Porter never judged her, never made a disparaging remark or tried to guilt her with "what would your parents or God think?" She accepted Sam as one of her family, and family didn't do that to each other. There were times in the dark of the night that Sam fervently wished that Millie WAS her mother.

Sam's grades stayed high and she had taken to studying in the main library of the school, instead of alone in isolation in her room. As part of that, she wore skirts and blouses more often and rarely agonized over "male or female" like she had been. She had met several nice girls and a couple nice boys too while studying, and there was an impromptu unofficial study group of about ten kids now. They would request and get one of the small conference rooms so they could make noise and talk over each other, but they did actually study.

Sam's social life was taking off, much to her surprise. As a loner, she was painfully shy, but when given the opportunity to socialize with peers, she began to blossom. While she would never be the social butterfly that Tina was, she wasn't a wallflower anymore. She did stay in the background, remaining a shrinking violet in some ways, but she did make a decision to be more active and outgoing. So while she shyly would smile and blush at anything, she did talk to others and initiate conversation.

She found out that her parent's health plan allowed her to go see a counselor and therapist as often as they determined that she needed it.

She arrived in the office of her new therapist about twenty minutes early so that she could fill out the forms that would be demanded. She had on a nice jean skirt and a pretty blouse, light makeup and some short heeled shoes. She had her school bag which doubled as her purse. Once the paperwork was out of the way, she went back to studying geometry.

Soon her name was called and the butterflies decided to migrate from her stomach to her throat. There was a bit of confusion since her insurance said “Samuel Fraizer” and she was trying to go by “Samantha Fraizer”, but soon it was straightened out.

She followed the pretty nurse back to see the doctor.

The session wasn't nearly as bad as she had feared. She had seen therapists and psychologists before, so seeing another wasn't a huge deal. She knew what to expect. The initial session was "getting to know you" for both of them. She didn't reveal a lot about herself, and the therapist strove to answer all her questions. Samantha was up front as to what she was there for and why. A diagnosis of "gender dysphoria" wasn't something that she wanted on her record, but it needed to be talked about with someone who might be able to help her.

She spoke to the doctor about the questions she had in relation to who she was, and how confused she was regarding her gender and how people were responding to her. That was the most confusing, when she was out as a guy, people ignored her, walked by her as if she didn't exist. But if she was out as a girl, people went out of their way to interact with her. It was all very confusing to her.

The doctor finally prescribed some medication for her depression and advised her to think long and hard about if she wanted to be a girl permanently. He wasn't going to recommend a course of hormones until she had made that decision.

Samantha promised that she would think about it. Appointments were made and schedules exchanged. She left feeling better about this course of therapy.

Any Wednesday night you could find Sam at the Church, volunteering for whatever was going on. She would cook meals for the basketball game, help with concessions, sort clothes from donations, serve in the nursery so that parents could go to the Bible Study class without having to worry about their kids or whatever was needed.

The Porters never forgot to thank her and include her when they were doing something. Pastor Porter became like a father to Sam, just as Mom Porter was more than a mother now. She was thinking more about things that would make them smile or what would please them. The bouquet she bought the Pastor on Father's Day made him grin from ear to ear for several hours.

There were long talks with both of them about her gender confusion. She wasn't fearful that God would hate her for wanting to be a girl, but the emotional part of her still needed to be comforted. One night she was in a discussion with both the Porters and finally Mom lost her patience with Sam.

"Sam, close your eyes. Just close your eyes and relax. I know you have been going around and around with this for months, talking to us and to the counselor about it, but you need to figure something out.

"I want you to build a vision of yourself. I want you to see yourself internally, in your perfect form. I want you to look, deeply into your soul, and figure out if you are a girl or a guy. Don't look to me for answers; don't look to the Pastor for answers, or to the counselor. All we can do is lead you to the answers you need.

"It's time for you to confront the true Sam. Look at the person who inhabits your body." When Sam tried to speak, Mom Porter cut her off. "No talking. This is a time for communion with yourself. Just sit there and ignore us, look inside yourself for your answers."

As Millie spoke, Sam consciously looked deep inside herself. She tried to see herself detached from her body, to see her body sitting in the kitchen of the Porter's home and to see herself, her perfect self, outside of that body.

She looked deeply into her mind and soul and saw that she was a beautiful young woman. That she was slender with nice breasts, shapely legs and wearing a pretty dress on. Her hair was long and flowed around her as if blown by a breeze. She had a small heart shaped face and a cute, pert nose. While her looks were not going to be supermodel level, she had quite a bit of personality and emotion in her eyes, and that made her very pretty.

She stepped up to herself and shook the proffered hand gently. : Hello, you must be me.

: Yes, I am. You and I are one. I've been waiting for you to look for me for a long time.

: I’m sorry it took so long.

: It’s understandable. You were scared for us and you have had too many memories of past times that hurt you. But it's time to let go of that pain and accept who you are. You have not really ever been Samuel Fraizer; you have always been Samantha in your heart. You always knew this even while you tried to deny it. It's time to stop denying and to begin your life as yourself.

: But I'm so scared.

: Of course you are. Only a fool wouldn't be scared of the change you are contemplating, it's a life changing, life altering decision. But you have a chance now to correct a mistake that has been made for many, many. It is a mistake that you have fought against, even if you didn't know it. Tell me, do you remember any of your prayers from when you were little and still prayed to God?

: No, not really. She couldn't help remembering one prayer she had uttered several times and she felt herself flush with embarrassment.

: Ah, I see that you do remember that prayer. 'Please, God, let me wake up as a girl.' You said that every night for several years. You truly believed in Him and you tried your best to convince Him to create a miracle and let you be the girl you knew you were. And like all children, when He didn't answer you as you thought He should, you turned away. That's why you have not had a spiritual life of any kind for so long. And now you have made your way to this place. How do you feel now?

: Happy for the first time in my life. I have friends and I'm accepted. I guess being a girl really is how my life should have been.

: Wrong. It is not that you should be a girl; it is that you are accepting yourself AS a girl, and that acceptance is reflected in your spirit, your aura, your eyes and your emotions. It calls to others; it demands that they accept you as well. It reaches out to those who are lost and foundering, without a spiritual guide or an emotional rudder, and you are helping them to find their way, by accepting yourself.

: But He didn't answer my prayers, ever!
she almost yelled in her grief.

: He didn't? the apparition answered quietly. What do you think this period of your life is?

Sam opened her mouth to yell back at the spirit form of herself, but stopped. She knew that God worked in His own way, in His own time. A child of 4 or 5 might not understand what they wanted, but an adult would, and would be capable of making the decisions and taking the consequences of her own actions. Maybe that is why it happened now so that she could cope without the hysteria of others around her. It was a fact that she was capable of being Samantha now without a lot of the distractions that she might have had if it happened 5 or so years ago during High School.

This realization stopped her cold. She couldn't be mad anymore, and she felt tears on her cheeks. : Why did he torture me like this for so long? she asked.

: It wasn't torture; it was you having to figure out what you wanted. You didn't know and you didn't know the steps you needed to take to become the person you are. He didn't torture you, you did. You were convinced that it was 'bad' and 'evil' and 'deviant', that no one could possibly love you if you felt like this, and He simply let you continue to feel that way, since feeling that way or not is your decision, not His.

The apparition came close and touched her. : Dear one, God doesn't hurt any of us. It is our actions or lack of them that cause suffering. You couldn't make a decision, you were told a lot of horse crap, and you decided to believe it. God couldn't change that because you have the freedom to believe that if you want. He grieved for your sorrow and wanted to help, but He couldn't. YOU had to decide that you wanted something different. And now His Daughter is getting her life right. He is so happy and wants you to be content and joyful. That's all He ever wants for any of us, for us to have our highest joy. So don't be sad, go into this time of your life without guilt. Take the gifts the Porters are offering you, without thought of some hidden agenda. They are both true Christians and He is very pleased with all three of you.

Samantha knelt in this no-place with herself. She was crying but it wasn't from sorrow anymore, it was as though a great weight had been lifted from her heart. She reached over and hugged the form that was her tightly. : Thank you, she whispered.

: Thanks are not due to me, but thanks are for yourself, for FINALLY letting yourself be who you are. Go and be happy as who you are.

Samantha nodded slightly, and soon she was opening her eyes in the kitchen again. Her cheeks were wet with tears and Mom Porter was sitting there sipping some tea.

As soon as Sam opened her eyes, Mom Porter slid another cup of chamomile tea over to where she could grasp it. The tea had cooled quite a bit, but it was still delicious.

She noticed that two hours had passed and Pastor Porter wasn't there anymore.

She didn't feel like saying anything for a while, and she thought back over what had happened. When she remembered it, she wound up crying again.

Slowly, she started sharing the events with Mom Porter who listened without comment. She prompted occasionally, but there were no opinions offered or judgments made.

When the emotional storm was over with Sam, she realized that it was nearly Midnight and she needed to get home. She kissed Mom Porter and left with due haste.

On the drive home she thought about what the time with herself meant. It showed her clearly that she was definitely a girl, and nothing else.

She would let the therapist know that she was ready to start hormones.

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Comments

Your writing

Andrea Lena's picture

I adore your story - new to reading as well as writing here, so I'll go back and read this from the start. Lovely! God bless! 'drea

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

A joy, Joy

Just glanced here before heading out the door to work. But I had to finish and comment. Joy, you have outdone yourself with this chapter. I will be coming back this evening to savor this chapter when I'm not rushed.

Fine work!
Karen J.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Sweet...

What a sweet and prescious story you have written. It is so beautiful, it brought tears to my eyes. Lovely, lovely, lovely. I can hardly wait for it to continue.... Mary.

Good For Sam!

I am a devout Christian, and I totally agree with what was said here.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Very emotional

RAMI

That was a very emotional and well written chapter. Samantha seems to have come to the realization on how to proceed with her life without guilt.

RAMI

RAMI

A beautiful story

I have just read this from the beginning; it's a wonderful tale of love in action.

I too have attended three types of church; 1) "If you don't believe what I believe, you're wrong and will fry in hell," 2) "Don't do as I do, do as I say," and 3) "Judge not lest you be judged." Needless to say, the first two claim to be Christian but don't do as it says on the tin.

I presently attend a type 3 church, but am prepared to vote with my feet if I see any sign of deviation from Christ's two commandments.

And so many miss the point when they ask, "Why do you want to be a woman?" If you asked your mother that question, how do you think that she would reply?

Susie

Great work

I just read everything straight through and I really like the way your story is going. It rings so familiar to me on a lot of levels and is well written. Please continue to write it, I'm really really enjoying this tale.
-Tiffany :-)

So far your story has been wonderful

I'm sure it will be the same to the end?

LoL

Rita

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita